DRAWN 
SHUTTERS 



BEATRICE 
REDPATH 




7? 

(lass 

Book 



PRESENTED liV 



DRAWN SHUTTERS 



DRAWN SHUTTERS 



BY 

BEATRICE REDPATH 



LONDON : JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD 
NEW YORK : JOHN LANE COMPANY 
TORONTO ; S. B. GUNDY : MCMXVI 






J A "J 2 -' < '- ■ 6 



Printed in Great Britain 
by Turnbnll & Shears, Edinburgh 



CONTENTS 



DRAWN SHUTTERS 

THE DANCER 

DAISIES 

STILL LIFE . 

TO ONE LYING DEAD 

THE SEA 

THE YEARS . 

THE APPLE TREE . 

EARTH LOVE 

THE MOTHER 

THE CANARY 

AT TWILIGHT 

REVERIE 

SLEEP . 

THE SEA SHELL . 

THE DAUGHTER OF JAIRUS 



PAGE 
I 

4 
7 
8 

9 
13 
14 
16 

17 
19 
24 
26 

27 

28 

3° 
3i 



DRAWN SHUTTERS 



SHADOWS 

A MEMORY . 

THE SILVER SCARF 

THE PURSUER 

GOLD HAIR . 

THE RETURN 

JUNE 

THE BRIDGE . 

MY THOUGHTS 

SAILORS 

AUTUMN SUNSET . 

AT DUSK 

VIERGE CONSOLATRICE 

THE DEPARTURE . 

DAFFODILS . 

AT THE LOOM 

BEYOND THE SUBURBS 

AN IMPRESSION 

SPRING . 

REBELLION . 

THE CLOWN . 

THE RELEASE 



CONTENTS vii 

PAGE 

COLD 78 

THE DAY'S ENDING 80 

1HE OLD HOUSE 8l 

TO A GREEK STATUE 85 

APRIL 87 

THE LITTLE STONE HOUSE 88 

FULL NOON 90 

BURIAI 92 

AT NIGHT 93 

THE DEAD SOUL 94 



DRAWN SHUTTERS 



DRA WN SHUTTERS 

The red geraniums on the window ledge 

Blaze through the shutters draivn against the 

sun 
And heat that rises from the street below. 
Life in its flood sweeps steadily along, 
A pageant lavish of its flare and sound. 
The high white blaze of noon beats down out- 
side, 
A barrel organ jingles out its tune, 
A slow procession in a long black file 
Beats a dull rhythm from the paving stones. 
A man with fruits to sell cries out his wares, 
The swift sharp noise of many horses' feet 

A I 



2 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Strikes steadily above the changing sounds. 
The sun lies hot upon the dust gray streets. 
But here behind the shutters closely drawn 
Only a single bar of sunlight slips 
A nd lies a straight bright line upon the floor. 
The yellow frames shine from the cool gray 

walls 
And still white peonies are like wide cups 
Of porcelain to hold faint perfumes in. 
Here all remote from the great sweep of life 
I strive to trace on thin white fluttering leaves 
Some part of that which I have known and 

seen : 
Fragments of life, a face that tells its grief, 
A hillside fiercely yellow with spring bloom, 
A room where shades are drawn and hands are 

stilled, 



DRAWN SHUTTERS 



Or gardens where love whispers in the leaves. 
Behind the shutters drawn against the sun 
I strive to trace the fragments I have seen. 



THE DANCER 

The music broke and clung unto the air 

In dizzy spirals of ascending sound, 

The dancer swayed a moment standing 

there . . . 
Then blossoms seemed to start from out the 

ground 
Dancing deliciously within the sun. 
A vagrant wind danced all the hillsides 

down, 
Bending the slender birch trees one by one, 
Until each slim white image seemed to 

drown 
In the calm waters of a listless pool. 
4 



THE DANCER 5 

Some others flung their bright green veilings 

wide 
To bare their limbs unto the breezes cool. 
The clouds' slow course became a reckless 

glide, 
Till flushed to colour by their wilful glee 
They hid behind the stiff pine-pointed shore. 
Now wheeling upward buoyantly and free 
A seagull rose with pinions spread to soar, 
Striking its wings against the sun's warm 

heart, 
That splashed them o'er with crimson as with 

blood. 
And there was glint where leaping waters 

start 
And frolic through the shadows of a wood, 
Tossing upon the air bright jets of spray. 



6 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Slowly the stars crept out above the hill, 
Leaning to peer where their reflection lay 
In the deep waters breathless now and still. 
Then dusk came quietly with timid feet, 
Bearing within her arms the veils of night . . . 
The music altered to a quicker beat, 
The dancer stood there swaying in the light. 



DAISIES 

WHITE daisies that are swept 

By winds which softly blow, 

They are the tears by little children wept 

And now in pastures grow. 



STILL LIFE 

Bright tiger lilies with harsh yellow leaves, 
Awkward and stiff within an earthen bowl, 
Protruding their thin evil tongues at me, 
Splashed with dull spots that seem to stand 

out high 
From the flat canvas ; ah, how I feel there 
That man's full fury, trampled on by life, 
Baffled in every hope he would pursue, 
Rent by the discords sounding in his soul, 
Angered and beaten back till he could paint 
Those tiger lilies with their cruel leaves, 
And their thin evil tongues protruding so. 



TO ONE LYING DEAD 

Strange that thou liest so, void of all will 
For loving ; so content with thy long sleep 
That neither word nor sound may stir the still 
Calm quiet of the dream that thou dost keep. 

Pale now the cherished contour of thy face, 
Thy lids lie heavy 'gainst the ache of light, 
And hold in their wan stillness ne'er a trace 
Of waking from the shadow of thy night. 

Languid thy tender feet unsandalled rest, 
Wearied of passage o'er the furrowed earth ; 
They say thou art gone forth upon thy quest 
Seeking a greater fullness of rebirth. 
9 



10 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Yet all that I have ever known of thee 

Lies here. What has gone out from thee this 

hour 
That leaveth thee, unstirred by word from me, 
Low lying, like a fallen scentless flower ? 

Hadst thou a soul which through the drifting 

years 
My earth-bound vision was too dull to see ? 
And didst thou know the weight of unshed 

tears ? 
Hadst thou a spirit straining to be free ? 

A heart that knew regret and all desire, 
And envy and that malice men call hate, 
And saw with fear the slow consuming fire 
Of life, and learned to be compassionate ? 



TO ONE LYING DEAD n 

Then all of this was what I knew not of, 
Thou wert but loveliness made manifest, 
And wore the garment fashioned of my love 
So fittingly that I ignored the rest. 

Shall all of thee that I have ever known 
Become as dust the sun shines not upon ? 
I did not know thy soul so strangely flown, 
So may not find thee where thou now art 
gone. 

Then let me kneel thus worshipping and 

see — 
Thee whom I love, still lying as thou art, 
That I may ever keep long dreams of thee 
And hold thine image close within my heart. 



/ 

12 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

So shall I look upon thy face so fair, 

And thy sealed lids which sleep doth seem to 

please, 
Thy mouth's pale blossom and thy fallen hair, 
Where heavy shadows lie at pleasant ease. 



THE SEA 

The sea is kind, it giveth rest 
To those who wearied are, 
Canopied by the crimson west 
And candled by a star ; 
The sea is kind, it giveth rest 
To those who wearied are. 



13 



THE YEARS 

WITHIN old cloistered woods I hear leaves fall 
As softly as a quiet summer rain, 
The earth lies silent 'neath its leafy pall, 
While years tread softly where dead hopes are 

lain ; 
Ah, hear the wind that whispers to the fern, 
The footsteps of old years shall not return. 

And some passed swiftly as a pulsing flame, 
While there were those that dreamed 'neath 

slumb'rous skies, 
Some sped white-winged and others stumbled 

lame, 

14 



THE YEARS 15 

Some years were as a wheeling flight of sighs ; 
Ah, hear the wind that whispers to the fern, 
The footsteps of old years shall not return. 

Oh, time of hidden pain, oh, time of tears, 
Now would I rest, for I am weary quite ; 
The years move always, slowly drifting years, 
Beyond the shadow of the Infinite. 
Ah, hear the wind that whispers to the fern, 
The footsteps of old years shall not return. 



THE APPLE TREE 

Its branches soar deliciously 
Unto the film-clouded skies, 
And past the flushed bloom sleepily 
Drift tinted butterflies. 



16 



EARTH LOVE 

God, in Thy Heaven hast Thou ever known 
Toil, when the heart and hand were fused in 

one, 
The sweet bruised scent of grasses newly 

mown, 
The sharp delight to see each dawn the sun 
Rising above the margent of the seas ? 
And hast Thou ever felt within Thy Breast 
That strange delight in dim uncertainties 
With every day's apparellings unguessed ? 
Ah, hast Thou lain with wide entranced eyes 
Wrapped in the purple veilings of the night 
Beneath the fretted splendour of the skies 
b 17 



18 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

And seen them tressed with coronal of light, 
Yearning to push their silvern fringe apart 
And so adventure to Eternity ? 
God, I have strangely felt it in my heart 
Walking upon the earth to pity Thee. 



THE MOTHER 

So quietly lay the babe along her arm 
Hard was it to believe what she had done, 
But now her child should never come to harm, 
And she cared little if to-morrow's sun 
Should find her but a wastrel and forlorn. 
How dark 'twas here, the leaves shut out the 

sky 
And scarcely could she see if it was morn, 
But she was glad that no bright star on high 
Had pierced those leafy branches 'bove her 

head 
And seen that which it were not well to see. 
Now she would lay her babe in this soft bed 

19 



2o DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Of grasses where the ferns pressed heavily, 
And flowers were folded close against the 

ground. 
How deep her slumber and how long her 

sleep 
Where she would never wake to any sound. 
Her child would never lie awake to weep 
At night-time for the evils of the day, 
Nor know the awful grimness of that place 
Where she had passed her childhood all away, 
As though to be a child were some disgrace 
And so must eat but penitential bread. 
And she would never sit through weary hours 
With tired fingers and with aching head, 
Cutting the petals for bright cotton flowers 
That so she might gain bread and toil some 

more. 



THE MOTHER 21 

But he came then . . . and now her pale lips 

smiled, 
And yet she grieved as she had not before 
That she had stolen this joy from her child 
To know how sweet and tender love may be. . . . 
Well she remembered how he often spoke 
Of that small cottage builded pleasantly, 
Amid the fields and far from noise and smoke, 
Where the green days deliciously would glide, 
And where winds tarried 'mid the ripened 

grain 
Until it rippled as a golden tide. 
And she would plant bright flowers behind 

each pane, 
For children love to watch a flower unfold, 
And then with trembling joy her heart would 

fill . . . 



22 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

He said their love needed no bonds to hold, 
And she had always bent unto his will. . . . 
And yet she scarcely blamed him even now, 
That he had grown so wearied of her soon, 
A man may not keep always to his vow, 
And day shall not stand ever at full noon. . . 
But those like her should never have a child, 
And so she had to put her babe to sleep; 
It seemed to her just now those white lips 

smiled, 
How glad she was her child would never weep, 
Ah, she was thankful for what she had done. 
So often she would think of this green wood 
When she was gone, of how the shining sun 
Would fall between the leaves in yellow flood, 
Of how the flowers were sprinkled on the 

ground 



THE MOTHER 23 

As white as that small cloud up in the sky, 
Here hours lapsed slowly to the stream's low 

sound, 
While here on nights the moon that swung so 

high 
Would weave for her lone babe a silver 

shroud. . . . 
She did not know how she could leave this 

place, 
And then she cried in broken prayer aloud, 
And hid within her trembling hands her face. 



THE CANARY 

I THOUGHT he was so yellow in the sun, 

All barred about by his small cage of gold, 

And always as he leapt from perch to perch 

His little notes bespoke a timid joy. 

But all so soon I wearied of him there, 

Disdaining him that he had dared no flight, 

Against the wind and up into the sky, 

To touch the dizzy stars with eager wing 

Above the dark cloud canopies of night. 

For there he hopped through hours of every day, 

And if he were to fly beyond the pane 

He could not ride upon the least of winds 

Or ever dare the silences of sky. 

And then I turned with song upon my lips, 
24 



THE CANARY as 

Hearing the sudden closing of the door, 
While he for tenderness said unto me, 
" My little song-bird in a yellow cage." 
And so I started back with widened eyes 
And saw my yellow walls like bars of gold, 
While the stiff flounces of my silken dress 
Were yellow as the plumage of my bird. 
And then I said, my voice all fallen low, 
" A little song-bird in a yellow cage 
Who makes no flight into the lonely sky, 
To ride wide-winged against persisting wind 
With will to gain unto the trembling stars." 
And suddenly and all to his amaze 
I opened wide the cage unto the air, 
And when he would have stopped me in dismay 
I said, " Let all canary birds be free, 
And learn to spread their timid wings in flight." 



AT TWILIGHT 

I HAVE lighted the tapers each side thy head 

And gathered fresh bloom for thee, 

I have wept and prayed as I knelt by thy bed 

And have laid thee back tenderly ; 

Now my feet are still and my hands fall wide 

As I sit by thy side. 

Ah, why should I braid up my fallen hair 
And for what should I go to the well ? 
Should the dawn sky be ever so red wouldst 

thou care 
Or wake from thy quiet spell ? 
Shall I hear not again thy feet on the floor 
Nor thy hand on the door ? 
26 



REVERIE 

I THINK that once thy tender feet were shod 
With silken sandals, while amidst thy hair 
White diamonds glimmered at thy head's slow 

nod, 
And all was done for thy sweet body's care ; 
But thou didst stoop to sin on some old day, 
That day which only dreams may bring again, 
And so thou walkest in the shadows gray 
Attended only by the wind and rain. 



21 



SLEEP 

UPON the hillsides every yielding fern 
Droops to the touch of slow distilling sleep, 
Which floats like wreathing incense from an urn 
Across the hills ; the dark trees seem to creep 
Closer together with a shiv'ring sigh, 
Folding into the shadow their wide boughs 
From which the wind has fallen silently. 
The heavy-headed blossoms droop and drowse, 
Closing their cool curled petals one by one. 
Across the pastures heavy sleep rolls down 
Where on the grass light winds are wont to run 
Through all the day ; now muffling sleep doth 

drown 

28 



SLEEP 29 

Unto a whisper the last tinkling bell. 
Only the noise of the deep breathing stream 
In the wide silence louder seems to swell, 
Its arms outstretched within a happy dream 
Unto the sea, which like a woman's breast 
Stirs with a languid, fluctuating breath. 
Even the old stone wall so greenly tressed 
With its imperishable ivy wreath 
Clings closer to the ground on which it lies 
And sleeps beneath the moon's transparent pall ; 
The last pale glimmer fades from out the skies, 
And sleep, compelling sleep enfoldeth all. 



THE SEA SHELL 

ROSE pink and with a soul 
That singeth of the sea, 
The sounding silver sea, 
The vapour-hidden sea, 
Thou fairy curved bowl, 
Un fathomed mystery. 



30 



THE DAUGHTER OF JAIRUS 

I HAVE fashioned soft raiment for her to wear 
And have laid her embroidered sandals in 

her room, 
I have said I would braid and bind her heavy 

hair, 
But she has gone out to the orchard to 

gather bloom. 



Last night she lay in the dusk with her eyes 

adream, 

And I questioned of what were her dreams 

as I touched her hand, 
3i 



32 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

But she looked at me with a smile in her eyes' 

dark gleam, 
What word might she use to make me 

understand ? 

So she spoke instead of the earth all bathed in 

light, 
Of the moon as a lily when the leaves unfold, 
Of the trees like silver plumes to deck the 

night, 
Of the starry skies as a blazoned script 

unrolled. 

She has no praise for all she had cherished 

before, 
And has given away her beads of yellow gold, 
Strange she seems, yet more kind than hereto- 
fore, 



THE DAUGHTER OF JAIRUS 33 

And I marvel much at the dreams she must 
withhold. 

She has spoken no word about her curious 

sleep, 
And the light in her eyes we have vainly 

essayed to read, 
The secret of her dream she must hidden keep, 
For her lips are framed but to an earthly 

need. 

She has left her sandals lying upon the floor 
And all untasted her goblet of amber wine, 
She has gone out to the sun beyond the door 
To sit in the cool green gloom of the 
hanging vine. 



SHADOWS 

I THINK we are as shadows meant 
To rest a moment on the ground, 
By gusts of passion torn and rent, 
Then to pass outward without sound. 



34 



A MEMORY 

Pale face 'neath shadows of dim hair 
And mouth like ripe pomegranate stain, 
Wouldst thou have memory or care 
To dream of that still hour again ? 
That little hour when hopes rode high 
Like slender moons across the sky. 

So we a moment gladly grasped 

From all eternity's swift tide, 

Thy tender hands by mine held clasped, 

While we sought dreams . . . that since have 

died ; 
In that still hour when hopes rode high 
Like slender moons across the sky. 
35 



36 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

And thou wert like a yielding bough, 
Whilst all my love was as a flame 
Close wrapping thee ; I wonder now 
If thou couldst e'en recall my name, 
Or that still hour when hopes rode high 
Like slender moons across the sky? 



THE SILVER SCARF 

She wound the silver scarf close to her 

throat . . . 
I thought of silver moths that fleck the dusk 
With the transparent shimmer of their wings, 
Of stars reflected in a mountain pool, 
Of moonlight dripping through thick clustered 

leaves ; 
I thought of the bright silver of live seas, 
Of shining fantasies of ocean spray. 

I saw her wind that scarf close to her throat 
When months had taken heavy toll of love ; 
I thought of myriad serpents' eyes agaze 
37 



38 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Through the dank reeds that fringe a stagnant 

pool ; 
Of sword-blades gleaming o'er a field of blood, 
Of diamonds shining on a harlot's breast. 



THE PURSUER 

I HAVE endured the trampling feet of years 
And won my way through pit'less chasms dark, 
Wherein did lurk all terrors and dread fears, 
My mind dishevelled and my soul all stark 
Of any faith, from which I e'er could wring 
Salvation ; yet strained forward to attain 
That which should make an end of turmoiling 
And yielding forgetfulness of mortal pain. 

Through sordid ways my courses have been 

run, 
By streets where houses grayly marshalled 

stood, 

39 



4 o DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Fettered in rooms all witless of the sun, 
Down haggard lanes, gated with crumbling 

wood ; 
And yet my feet abandoned any rest, 
And would pursue that which I yearned to 

see, 
The revelation of my earthly quest, 
The unknown rapture to enfathom me. 

And if beyond the turning of some way, 
Across the threshold of a shuttered door 
Down the worn track of old familiar day 
I may not reach my goal, then 'chance, before 
Mine eyes have widened wholly from the sleep 
That shall encompass me with purple night, 
Into my waking soul shall slowly creep 
The perfect rapture of abiding Light. 



GOLD HAIR 

I HAVE seen swallows drifting o'er the seas, 
And moonlight silvering a cloister wall, 
Wide orchards blossomed white with happy 

trees, 
And forests where the leaves bright crimson 

fall, 
But never seen such beauty anywhere 
As the warm flaming wonder of thy hair. 



4i 



THE RETURN 

Untrodden is the grass before the door 
Where green reeds gather whisp'ring each to 

each 
Of thee; and how thou shalt come here no 

more 
Nor thy pale hands the raining blossoms 

reach ; 
So like a sigh the breeze now seems to be, 
Or dost thou whisper softly unto me ? 

Where shadows closely falling seek to shade 
All things that were full dear to thee and me 
The echoes of my footsteps slowly fade 
42 



THE RETURN 43 

Like slow vibrations of a soulless sea ; 

Or is it that thy feet do follow mine, 

And echoes sounding are the beat of thine ? 

So soft, so slow the summer rains descend 
Upon the fiow'ring spaces of the ground, 
Where now the languid Lenten lilies bend 
As swayed by one who passes without sound ; 
The grasses tremble 'neath the drops they 

bear, 
Are they thy tears now fallen lightly there ? 

So wanly now the white moths stirring rise, 
Their silver wings as frail as were thy hands, 
Which at the last caressed my face, mine 
eyes 



44 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

'Ere thou wentst forth to seek for hidden 

lands ; 
Oh, art thou here, or where then mayst thou 

be, 
Thou seemest far and yet so close to me ? 



JUNE 

All, canst thou not forget to weep 
What time the silver stepping dawn 
With silent feet doth softly creep 
Across the lilied length of lawn ; 
While day is filled with melody 
Of singing wind and swelling tune, 
And boomings of the brown-winged bee 
Proclaim the early days of June. 



45 



THE BRIDGE 

Sharply defined against the sulphur sky 
In naked strength the bridge lies long and lean 
Between opposing shores ; and always there 
The crowds press forward in a long gray line 
That knows no end even when daylight sleeps 
And shadow forms about the haggard piers. 
Stamped with the jar and fret of life they are, 
Those faces passing there indefinite, 
Small blurs of white against a sombre sky. 
At times a waggon heaped with market bloom 
Blots its clear crimsons up against the gray 
That closes round it ; slow, processional, 
To sound of choking horns and grumbling 

wheels 

46 



THE BRIDGE 47 

The long gray line rolls on and has no end 
But weariness and meagre ease of life. 
And yet all day the water there beneath 
Offers its peace in cool insistent tones. 
Below the bridge it seems a supple shield 
Against which noise may hammer and may 

break, 
But cannot pierce unto the cool green depths 
That offer ease and sleep and rest from sound. 
The long gray line rolls on continual, 
And if some pausing, lean upon the rail 
In weariness, with eyes turned on the calm 
Of those still depths with longing and desire, 
'Tis but a moment and again the crowd 
Gathers them back to life from dreams of ease. 



MY THOUGHTS 

My thoughts are as a flock of sheep 

Upon a windy wold, 

At eventide they homeward creep 

To shelter from the cold ; 

And when I lay me down to sleep 

They rest within the fold. 



48 



SAILORS 

Always when he would go for walks with me 
We'd climb the little hill beyond the town, 
From there he said it seemed so like the sea 
To look upon the fields when winds had blown 
The grasses till they fell aslant the sun. 
The blossoms were, he said, as plumes of spray 
That broke above the waves in noisy fun. 
And often I would pause upon my way 
From school and wait for him outside his door, 
He always seemed so glad to come with me 
And tell me of sea tales from his great store. 
For I had such deep yearning for the sea, 
Which in my life-time I had never seen, 
d 49 



So DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Shut in by hills that rose above the town 

Like walls of jade coloured so bright a green, 

In winter fading to a mottled brown. 

And much he talked about and loved to tell 

Of ships with sails unfurled to every breeze, 

Rising and falling to a languid swell, 

Or beating up against the driving seas 

That draped the sides with shreds of lacy foam, 

With not a sign or light by which to steer, 

The sun all blotted out from the gray dome. 

And then on days when the bright skies were 

clear 
The ship, he said, sailed midway in a ball 
Of crystal, whilst the sun, a giant face, 
Seemed peering through a blue transparent 

wall. 
And there was scarcely anywhere a place 



SAILORS Si 

Where ships sought harbour that he had not 

seen, 
Islands that sudden reared upstanding tall, 
Girdled in foliage of startling green. 
From which the only sound, a parrot's call, 
Mocked all the sailors of slow-moving ships. 
And he had sailed through phosphorescent seas 
Where the live silver from the rudder drips 
And the white fire is blown on by the breeze 
Till all the sea is as a liquid flame. 
And sometimes at strange ports the ship would 

lie 
Where sea-going vessels very rarely came, 
There bright-winged birds about the masts 

would fly 
While dark-skinned natives boarded her with 

wares, 



52 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

With curious fruits, with nuts and shells like- 
wise ; 
The sailors often paused from ship's repairs 
To laugh and jibe at the shrill foreign cries. 
So clear the waters there that they could lean 
Across the rail and see six fathom down, 
So still it was it seemed like a vast screen 
On which were painted reeds of green and brown, 
Whilst gleaming fish flashed in wide arcs of 

light. 
And he had sailed through other seas than these 
Where icebergs rise to a tremendous height, 
Gliding like drifting isles upon the seas 
With colours borrowed from the rainbow's ring ; 
The sailors feared them more than wind or wave, 
White sirens of the seas that need not sing 
To lure a ship unto a cold dark grave. 



SAILORS S3 

He understood the ways of winds and tides, 
The terms that seamen use for ropes and sails, 
To read a compass and ship's chart besides, 
And how to reef a ship to meet stiff gales. . . . 
Still was I but a boy the day we crept 
About him as he lay all silent there, 
And there were many there who quietly wept 
And said his loss would be full hard to bear, 
A man so kindly it was rare to know, 
Scarce had he left his mother for a day 
Since years long past her sight began to go. 
I said, " But surely he has been away 
For many voyages upon the sea ? " 
They stared at me and smoothed the white 

sheet down 
And said, " Why, we have never known him be 
More than a day or so outside the town." 



AUTUMN SUNSET 

The coloured sky curves over me 
Like a round copper bowl, 
The leafless boughs as tracery 
Engraved upon the whole. 



54 



AT DUSK 

I HAVE garnished my room with river reeds 

And strung my singing lyre, 

I have filled my vases with coloured weeds 

And put on my new attire ; 

Now I count the hours on my amber beads 

That glow with a hidden fire. 

The sun stepped into a golden sea 
And the dusk crept up from the shore, 
My heart is athrill with melody 
And my feet are light on the floor ; 
A voice from the dusk is calling me 
And a hand is laid on my door. 
55 



VIERGE CONSOLATRICE 

Oh Mary, listen, know that yesternight 
There winged to Thee across the paths of light 
A spirit child ; wilt softly let him lie 
In Thy blue robe all seamless to the hem, 
There hidden from the silver blossomed sky 
And that great sun, a yellow flower on high, 
Until his eyes accustomed grow to them. 

He never knew the forest hushed at noon, 
Or saw the wonder of the moth-white moon, 
All strange to him the widely coloured seas, 
Of these then, Mary, let him quietly dream, 
And hear the winds that sing among the trees, 
5<5 



VIERGE CONSOLATRICE 57 

And know the perfumes caught in every breeze, 
So that familiar may the far earth seem. 

Then speak to him all softly and quite low, 
He stayed so little time he will not know 
That 'tis Thy voice, not mine that now he hears ; 
A little while to sigh and then to sleep, 
While all unconscious of surrounding spheres, 
Oh Mary, Mother, wilt Thou dry his tears 
And watch above his quiet slumbers keep ? 



THE DEPARTURE 

I WATCHED by thy side all through the night, 

Kneeling by thy low bed, 

Until the dawn's broad wings of light 

Across the skies were spread ; 

The lilies, tall, unbending, white, 

Stood singly either side thy head. 

So softly thou wert lying there, 
All languid for thy rest, 
Thy head low pillowed on thy hair 
Which winds had oft caressed ; 
And for my arms thou didst not care, 
Nor my lips upon thine undraped breast. 
58 



THE DEPARTURE $9 

There was no sound within the room 

Nor stir beside the door, 

No light did rend the folding gloom, 

And yet thy soul did soar ; 

And only the lilies' deep perfume 

Prevailed, where thou hadst been before. 



DAFFODILS 

So many tapers deck the hills 
With yellow flames alight, 
Their fires burn brightly in the sun, 
But die at fall of night. 



60 



AT THE LOOM 

"Dear Mother, I cannot weave my web. I am overcome 
with longing for the boy by the doing of the delicate Aphrodite. " 

I SIT in the cool blue dusk of the room 
And hear the murmuring sound of the bees, 
The threads lie stretched along the loom, 
While the shuttle slides with rapid ease, 
But my hands fall wide in the tender gloom, 
For a whisper of love is abroad in the trees. 

My web is white as the mist is white 
That clings to the curve of the broken shore, 
But the love in his eyes was a flame alight, 
61 



62 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

And I am fain of all love's sweet lore ; 

He trod through my dreams in the quiet 

night, 
And my feet are restless upon the floor. 



BEYOND THE SUBURBS 

THE laden waggons pass along the roads 
Rutted by wheels, and intermittent rains, 
Onward into the town whose lights flare high 
At dusk above the low horizon line. 
The small farm-houses crouch amid the fields 
Worn by the warring of the rains and winds, 
That shake the hanging shutters till they flap 
Like broken wings against the whitewashed 

walls. 
And all day long and through the silent night 
The long trains thunder past into the town, 
Tearing the silences, fraying the dark 
With short sharp spears of yellow darting light. 
63 



64 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

At open doorways lonely figures stand, 
Pausing from toil to watch the trains go past 
And hear the whistle's loud discordant scream 
Waking the sleeping hollows in the hills. 
For weary, ah ! so weary are they grown 
Of the ungrateful fields and callous skies, 
The dark drear dawns, the day's relentless 

toil, 
And the long winter's unremitting snows. 
And every night the town's reflected lights 
Seem to outshine the stars that pale and fade, 
Before the glow that spreads across the skies. 
The town that rears to skyward its gray walls, 
The town with its wide throbbing thorough- 
fares, 
Brilliant with clustered lights and glad with 
sound . . . 



BEYOND THE SUBURBS 65 

But some are worn and some have fear of 

change, 
And some must stay to harvest the ripe grain, 
To till the fields and take from earth its store. 
At open doorways lonely figures stand 
And watch the trains roar past into the town. 



AN IMPRESSION 

The skies are garmented with gray, 

Gray mists above the sea, 

The sun seeks shelter on this day 

Now when thou leavest me ; 

So long, so long the years, 

Thine eyes are clouded gray, 

Beneath thy tears. 

The coloured hills are grown to gray, 
And gray the wild bat's wing, 
I see thy face through wreathing spray, 
66 



AN IMPRESSION 67 



Tender with sorrowing. 
So long, so long the years, 
Thine eyes are clouded gray, 
Beneath thy tears. 



SPRING 

If I were laid asleep 

Beneath the sun-warmed ground 

While heavy years would creep 

Above me without sound, 

It is enough for me 

That I have one time seen 

The lilac-burdened tree, 

The daffodils' slim green ; 

It is enough for me 

If I should pass away 

That I had once loved thee 

Upon a mad spring day. 

68 



REBELLION 

THE earth lay wrapped in pale low hanging 

mist, 
As some white tomb all ready for its dead 
I thought, and shudderingly forward pressed 
Into that shadowed house where night still 

hung 
Darkly, as though it yet were loath to leave 
While he lay there so still within the room. 

There was a garden once where the rose trees 
Were heavy with white globes of scented 

bloom, 
There the bright-shafted arrows of the moon 
Fell down the amethystine ways of night, 
69 



7o DRAWN SHUTTERS 

And silence hung so heavy on the air 

We scarcely dared to fret the night with speech. 

Ah, how the scent of that rose garden now 
Drifts back, and for a moment lulls my pain, 
But then more poignant seems my heart's 

sharp ache, 
For he lies dead, silent and all alone. 

How strange it is to be the first time here, 
And pass by every room where he has been 
Which now are empty as a disused frame. 
Along these halls his feet have often trod 
Unto the sound of Her voice calling him, 
So careful of Her pleasure as his wont. . . . 
Ah, how the shadows of these empty halls 
Seem pressing on my throat to stifle me, 
Until I feel I may not reach that room. . . . 



REBELLION 71 

I thought my heart acquainted well with grief, 
But oh, I had not known there was such woe 
In all the world as this, oh God as this, 
To stand and look on my beloved dead. 
Oh Death, I did not know thou wert so still 
And so remote from all this troubled world ; 
Thou takest from me what was never mine, 
And yet all mine the loss, all mine to bear 
The hungry emptiness of aching days. 

For oh, Beloved, though so far from thee 
Yet thy love warmed me as the distant sun 
Lightens a planet in a further space, 
And so I was not wholly comfortless. 
Now is the light gone out across the world, 
Yet earth reels always purposelessly round. 
Ah, I would scream aloud unto the stars 



72 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

That thou art dead, what need have they to 

shine, 
What need have moons to drift across the skies, 
Or suns to flare above a barren earth ? 

Beloved, now thou art beyond the world 
And art no longer bound to cherish Her, 
But now shalt love me as thy spirit wouldst. 
Ah, shall repression be our single creed ? 
All Thou hast made God, Thou hast fashioned 

free, 
But man would place a bridle on it all, 
Chain the glad golden lightnings to his need, 
Stem the bright rivers eager from the hills, 
And burden earth with palaces of steel ; 
So would he place his rule above our hearts 
And stifle love with a remorseless law. 



REBELLION 73 

But now, Beloved, dost thou not have grief 
And know regret because of wasted years 
That knew no profiting but only loss? 
Surely thou seest now how vain are laws, 
How greatly God in Heaven esteemeth love. 
There was a garden once where the rose-trees 
Were heavy with white globes of scented 

bloom. . . . 
Ah, dear, canst thou not hold thine arms 

again 
More wide for me, I am so tired with tears, 
And resting even now within thine arms 
I might forget a little while to weep. 



THE CLOWN 

With my face chalked white 

And jokes I have learned from a book, 

How I can make them laugh ; 

But could I stand there and tell them 

Just one part of what I have learned from life 

God, how I could make them weep. 



74 



THE RELEASE 

Languid thou art lulled to such depth of 

sleep 
Pale body where within I did abide, 
Closed eyes, still hands, and lips that silence 

keep, 
Since I have risen casting thee aside. 

Long hast thou agonised that thou must lie 
All silently with thy long travail done, 
Greatly it grieved thee that the flesh should 

die, 
Even though my eternity be won. 
75 



76 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Still hands that giving were so oft denied, 
Tired feet that trod with little ease the day, 
Canst thou not resting now be satisfied, 
The while thy soul goes shining on its way ? 

I am made strong by that which tried thee so, 
By loves, and hates, and by thy grieving 

fears, 
I am grown strong and splendid by thy 

woe, 
And thou hast shrived me in thy fallen 

tears. 

But now like to a harassed, wind-blown leai 
Thou fallest, softly, with no stir nor sound, 
For thou wert but the close enshielding sheaf 
Which for an earthly space thy spirit bound. 



THE RELEASE 77 

So fully thou hast served me through the 

years 
That now unwitheringly I arise, 
Disdainful even of the pendant spheres 
That seemed eternal to thy witless eyes. 

I shall endure what time the flagrant sun 
Is but a crumbling handful of spent dust, 
When the globed worlds their silvern course 

have run 
And into long oblivion are thrust. 

Ah, be thou satisfied that I endure 
Beyond the world that must suffice for thee, 
For by thy passions thou hast made so sure 
I shall arise to immortality. 



COLD 

The cold, 

The slow, slow cold, 

That steals so stealthily through all the earth, 

Chilling the metals hidden in the ground, 

Lying in wait in deep green watered wells, 

Or in dank ruins fringed with coarse leafed 

weed. 
The cold, 

The slow, slow cold, 

That rises to the heart of sun-dyed flowers, 
And shelters in green sheathing lily leaves, 
That lies in pools so deep the sun's slim gold 
Can never pierce nor warm with its flecked light. 
78 



COLD 79 

The cold, 

The slow, slow cold, 

That creeps up witheringly through the flesh, 

Chilling the pale warm bloom, blurring the 

gold, 
Freezing to quiet the once eager limbs 
With heavy cold, the dull white cold of death. 



THE DAY'S ENDING 

The colour fades from out the daffodils, 
And shadows creeping are of tender gray, 
The sapphire darkens on the further hills, 
I have been overlong upon the way. 

Now like a crocus bloom the evening skies, 
The sun hath flung its vesture to the seas, 
Dream lieth heavy on my tired eyes, 
I am grown weary and am fain for ease. 

The sun hath given joyously its light 
And now hath been enfolded in the west, 
Lord, I am ready for Thy pleasant night, 
Fold me in sleep, for I am fain for rest. 



THE OLD HOUSE 

Safe sheltered in a lilac-breathing lane 
The dust of years is gray upon its doors, 
And through a broken blind a yellow stain 
Of sunlight lies across untrodden floors. 

Quiet and dusk, and here a shattered loom 
Stands voiceless now through many silent 

days, 
While in a further corner soft with gloom 
A cradle hides from every wanton gaze. 

Full many years have drifted past recall 
Since she has gone who herein did abide, 
f 81 



62 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

Only the heavy shadows shrouding fall 
About the place where she has lived and 
died. 

There was broad space for dreams within the 

door 
Which night encurtained with its purple fold, 
Till dawning breezes murmured of the lore 
Of field and forest and of grassy wold. 

Her simple mind was all unvexed by creeds, 
Her soul was as an instrument attuned 
Unto the faith that furnished all her needs, 
With spirit things her spirit oft communed. 

Tranquil those years which yielded joys so 

slight, 
Surely within her heart there was unrest, 



THE OLD HOUSE 83 

What time the silver moon thrilled through the 

night 
And laid its shining fingers on her breast. 

Perchance 'twas then she planted there the 

rose 
That bears its crimson bloom so gladly still, 
Its colour warmed her days perhaps, none 

knows 
What dreams of her had winged across the 

hill. 

Unknown to her were worlds beyond the 

sea, 
Only familiar objects held her gaze, 
Yet with all truth and in simplicity 
With love and labour she made full her days. 



84 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

No more her years are checkered joy and pain, 
Her hands no longer work the silenced loom, 
But still does memory of her remain 
Amid the shadows of her quiet room. 



TO A GREEK STATUE 

White goddess, still, and strangely beautiful, 

Chiselled in marble by a mortal hand 

That shaped thy brow and carved thee 

equally 
In all thy length and purity of limb ; 
Thou art the rapt conception of a man 
When in his dreaming, momentarily, 
His soul came very close to the Sublime ; 
Thou art the height of what a man could 

dream 
And seemeth perfect to untutored eyes. 
Beggared I stand before thy {lawlessness, 
Crude clay part moulded to a mighty plan ; 
85 



86 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

But still within the spark of the Divine 
Doth labour till the whole be greatly hewn 
To His Design ; for He hath dreamed also 
A dream, and I am but the shapeless clay 
With which His Hand doth strangely fashion 

it. 
Grave goddess, perfect in thy purity, 
If thou the dreamed conception of a man 
Then to what dizzy summits may God dream ? 



APRIL 

In deepest woods there is a vernal stir 

While earth is quickened with the tender 

green, 
Blue waters rend their crystal sepulchre, 
And there is life where death like sleep hath 

been. 

Bird voices haunt the golden-lighted days, 
And snowdrops glimmer whitely in the grass, 
While in the twilight of the hidden ways 
All greenly veiled Persephone doth pass. 



87 



THE LITTLE STONE HOUSE 

Gray walled and roofed my house shall be, 
Stone piled on chiselled stone, 
With subtly fashioned mansionry 
Where one may dwell alone. 

I shall not care to open wide 
My closely fastened door, 
I shall not see the stars outside 
But dreams shall pave my floor. 

Quiet my house where I shall sleep 
Day and the long night too, 
The perfume of wan flowers shall steep 
My chamber through and through. 



THE LITTLE STONE HOUSE 

And there from all the world aloof 
White pillowed I shall lie, 
With no unrest beneath my roof 
While silent hours slip by. 



FULL NOON 

Wide fields of yellow crocus are ablaze, 
Unshadowed even by a cloud in flight, 
Only a bird swift dipping earthward sways 
A moment, dazzled by the flood of light 
The while the shadow of its spreading wings 
Darkens the bloom ; close to the grass-grown 

ground 
Each little darting insect shrilly sings, 
Filling the air with steady hum of sound. 
The pool lies silver rounded as a dish 
And stiffly fringed about with upright trees 
That cast no shade ; no stir of leaping fish 
Troubles its calm ; so languid is the breeze 
90 



FULL NOON 91 

It scarcely stirs the silken leaves to sound. 
The hot clay road that lies across the hill 
Is as a crimson ribbon come unwound 
Along the grass, where the bright corn-flowers 

spill 
Their colour, like small patches of blue shade 
To ease the ache from too great light above. 
A white skirt flickers in a green hid glade 
And voices falter in the noon of love . . . 
And yet already in the deeper wood 
The leaves are gath'ring shadows for the night, 
And down the hill, bent low beneath her hood, 
An old gray woman stumbles in the light. 



BURIAL 

Come now and let us bury love, 

And let it He, 

All things shall die, 

And one stupendous year of love 

Had you and I. 



92 



AT NIGHT 

If thou mightst see the silver light 

Low lying on the ground, 

The deep, the dark, the silent night 

With white moths stirring round ; 

The pale rose bathing in the dew 

As thick as fallen rain, 

And knew the skies embroidered blue 

Thou wouldst return again. 



93 



THE DEAD SOUL 

WHEN they have borne me out beyond the hill 
And laid me down behind that chiselled door, 
I shall lie there forever wanly still, 
And none that live or die shall see me more. 

So frail my soul, I think it could not rise 
Above the earth when I should come to rest, 
But as a flame blown by a night wind dies 
So should it fade what time it leaves my breast. 

For all too well thou hast long cherished me, 
Bringing me amber for my sun-swept hair, 
Silks woven silver as a moon-drowned sea, 
Corals and topaz for mine arms to bear. 
94 



THE DEAD SOUL 95 

Too much thou gavest, naught I was denied, 

No burden in my empty arms was laid, 

My small love weakened thy strong love 

beside, 
Earth's very fullness on my spirit weighed. 

Weak was my soul, it could not learn to 

grieve 
For those who wept, unfeeling of their pain, 
Pale hands, untoiling, eager to receive 
Without a will to give to earth again. 

My soul could never gain on unfledged wings 
Beyond the silver fretting of the stars, 
'Twill die upon the breeze that lightly springs 
Before the golden gate of day unbars. 



96 DRAWN SHUTTERS 

And so at length when I shall fall asleep 
No shining soul shall ever rise from me, 
Only long silence shall my dead soul keep 
While winds shall blow my dust upon the sea. 






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